Ira Kerrigan's page

About Ira Kerrigan

Male Human Cleric (Evangelist) 1
LG Medium Humanoid (Human)
Init: +2 Senses: Perception +7
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Defense
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AC: 13, Touch 11, Flat-footed 12 (+2 Armor, +1 Dex)
HP: 10 (1d8 +2)
Fort: +4 Ref: +1 Will: +5
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Offense
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Speed: 30ft.
Melee: Morningstar +0 (1d8/x2), Dagger +0 (1d4/19-20/x2/10ft.)
Ranged:
Cleric Spells Prepared:
1 (2+1/day) Shield of Faith, Cure Light Wounds, Summon Monster 1
0 (3/day) Detect Magic, Read Magic, Guidance
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Statistics
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Str: 10 Dex: 12 Con: 14 Int: 13 Wis: 16 Cha: 14
Base Atk: +0 CMB: +0 CMD: 11
Feats: Spell Focus (Conjuration), Augment Summoning
Traits: Seeker, Arcane Temper
Skills: Diplomacy 1+5, Knowledge (religion) 1+4, Perception 1+6, Perform (oratory) 1+5, Sense Motive 1+6.

Appraise, Craft, Heal, Knowledge (arcana), Knowledge (history), Knowledge (nobility), Knowledge (planes), Linguistics, Profession, and Spellcraft.
Languages: Common, Celestial
SQ: Aura, Domain (heroism), Orisons
Combat Gear: Morningstar, Dagger, Leather armor, Backpack, Bedroll, Trail rations x5, Canteen, Silver holy symbol, Spell component pouch, Cleric's vestments 78GP 1SP
Total Weight: 45

Background
"Been a long time since I been called down to the Drop. Don't know quite what the wind is whisperin' to me, but to be sure it carries a promise of something on its breath. Knowin' the Drop, I'm sure it ain't anything of good import. But the Hangman's nudging his far-reachin' elbow into my side, and I ain't one to deny Him. Never led me astray yet, and I don't anticipate Him startin' now. P'raps something's abrewin', and if it is... well, the Drop's going to need His justice before it's all said and done."

Ira Kerrigan was born on the southward edges of the Big Drop, son of Oscar and Hattie Kerrigan. Oscar was a rancher who had inherited the ranch from his father, but that was about as far back as the business went. His parents had been relatively successful, breeding some of the finest thoroughbreds in the area, and they typically brought in a fair amount of money from sold horses and cattle meat. Ira didn't find much interest in it - his interest had been mainly focused on his studies from a young age, being a prized pupil of the local schoolteacher and priest. The most prominent of the New Gods worshiped in the area was, of course, the Rancher, and that was who it was expected Ira would pledge himself to when he came of age.

When he was fourteen, Ira was sent on a mission to the R.S.P. It was here that Ira found himself slipping from the cozy lifestyle and the proud, forthright gods that were commonly worshiped back home. Here, he found all gods in abundance, but this allowed for some, such as the Whistler, the Grizzly, and the Rustler in common worship. These he found astonishing, so far removed were they from the 'civilized' gods of his home. Of course, he had known of them... but they had always been spoken of with distaste and a little fear.

But all was not foreign in the States of the Phoenix. The Hangman and the Madam and the Shooter were all in worship here, and these had always been deities deserving of respect. The Shooter less commonly, but it was always quietly and with some slight awe that the townsfolk would tip their hats when a gunslinger came through town.

In his time in the States, Ira came to find comfort in the presence of the Hangman. He was a god who all respected; an arbiter of fair and precise rulings. It was not always with respect that Ira was met with when he introduced himself as a follower of the Rancher - many seemed to find him a soft god. But preachers and holy men of the Hangman walked free and unmolested, and even the roughest of men would go to them for justice.

Ira began to look into the teachings of the Lone Star, and found it to his liking. Justice was a prevalent theme, but always mediated with mentions of impartiality. It was a god for those who valued structure, who wanted to make sense of the confused world they lived in. Ira found himself drawn to it, and he came home a converted man.

But home was not all that receptive to his new found faith; while the Hangman had their respect, he was not the sort of god one welcomed into their home. They had long found their problems not the sort that the Hangmen dealt with, and it was not often that they found him a recipient of their prayers. Eventually, Ira left home. It was simpler this way, and both him and his family breathed easier when there was no discussions of what path he should be following. He had gotten their blessing as he walked out the door, and that was all he needed.

For eight years Ira has wandered Rethe, learning from the most well-regarded holy men of the Hangman he could find, and mediating when he came upon those in need of it. He preaches the good word of the Lone Star with an impressive fervency, and sometimes it seems a holy rage takes him over. He speaks to crowds and lone men both; any who will deign to listen get a message, that the Hangman is here and He is uncompromising. Ira went in and out of the Drop at times, but mostly kept to the Risen States and the Republic of Iron, but never to the Lotus Empire. The mere mention of the place made the hair on the back of his neck rise.

Now, inexplicably, he feels the call of the Hangman bringing him back to the Drop, and so he follows it. Watching the wakes of the river pass as the steamboat trudges along, it is with both trepidation and worry that Ira returns home.

Appearance
Black hair flecked with gray covers most of Ira's head, though it recedes somewhat from his forehead. This is despite being a fairly young man, and its effect, combined with the lines creasing his face near the nose and corners of the mouth, is to have many think him older than he actually is. He wears a coat of supple leather, with pants and over-shirt of soft cotton. His collar is high, denoting his position as a priest. A dagger and morningstar hang at his right hip, within easy reach. His holy symbol, a silver noose, hangs openly at his neck.